"You must be punished for believing that you're the equal of me," he said. "Rachel is the one I'd love to punish for teaching you how to read," he said mumbling under his breath and too low for her to hear, otherwise Olga would have strongly reacted to her husband wanting to discipline his daughter in the way that he was disciplining his wife.

"Help! Please someone help me! May God strike you dead for the pain and suffering you have given me," cried Olga to the deaf ear of her husband while struggling against her ties.

In his drunken rage to her screaming, he stepped forward to tug hard at her nightgown. Pulling her to him by the front of her nightgown, he jerked the weight of her against her ties that held her wrists. With her buttons flying everywhere, he ripped open her nightgown to expose most of her naked breasts to the horny and happy eyes of her son. In just one, hard pull most of her tits were right there in plain view. In just one quick yank of her nightgown, rewarded with the view of much of her breasts, both father and son were sexually excited but for different reasons. Obviously, Hugo's sexual excitement was driven by watching his son having sex with his wife while Karl's sexually excitement was seeing his nearly naked mother helplessly tied to the horse stall. No doubt, being that they've done this many times before, both knew they were going to get their perverse wishes.

Hugo looked at his wife with a face full of sexual excitement before looking at his son staring at his mother's exposed cleavage. He looked back at his wife who looked from her husband to her son with her facial expressions going from fear to sexual arousal. An anxious moment of pain that was about to turn to pleasure, being that television wasn't even yet invented, what these three did in the barn was better than any porn movie on HDTV.

With her full cleavage and the front, rounded sides of her big breasts bulging out of her nightgown, she looked as would a 16th century wench would look when leaning forward to serve beer at a beer fest while wearing a revealing peasant blouse that showed most of her abundant, hidden assets. Looking from the image of his nearly topless wife, Hugo looked at his son again staring at his mother as if she was a big juicy steak and he was a starving man. Obviously, just as she was sexually exciting her son by being so exposed, Olga sexually excited her husband by all that she was showing his son.

"Please untie me, Hugo, please," she said looking from her husband to her son again as soon as her husband finished talking.

With her every sudden movement revealing a bit more of her tits and with her areolas now in plain view, seemingly having a mind of their own, her breasts moved as if they were trying to jump out of her nightgown. No doubt enjoying being the center of their manly attention and their sexual lust, with her look of sexual depravity that matched their looks of incest, obviously wanting to see what they were seeing of her for herself, she looked down to where her husband and son were staring. By the sexy look on her face, evidentally pleased that her breasts were so exposed and that she was so wanted and desired, instead of feeling embarrassed, instead of feeling humiliated, and instead of feeling shame, she gave them both a sexy look.

Apparently, by the amorous expression on her face, she was just as sexually excited as they were. Apparently, she wanted her husband to watch his son sexually abuse her as much as he wanted to watch her being so abused. Apparently, she wanted her son as much as he wanted his mother.

With her breasts practically spilling out of her nightgown, Karl stared at her big, hard nipples pushing against the thin cotton material of her dressing gown. His built-in sexual barometer, with Karl's big, bulging cock pushing against his pants over the sight of his mother's breasts, the incestuous, sexual lust between the two was obvious. Olga stared as much at her son's hardening prick that tented his pants as much as he stared at her tits that threatened to fall out of her nightgown.

"Help Mommy Karl. Untie Mommy, please," she said feigningly pulling against her ties while purposely jiggling her breasts as if hoping they'd fall out of her nightgown.

When her husband turned away from her to concentrate more on drinking from his bottle, she looked down at her exposed breasts again before looking up at her horny son to give him a sexy look. Karl looked away from his mother to watch his father before returning his focused stare to his mother's breasts. No longer interested in the sexual antics of his wife and son, Hugo walked back to his position by the support beam to nurse his bottle. Having not yet received his father's permission to have his wicked way with his mother, obviously by his focus stares of his mother's breasts, Karl was eager to begin his incestuous, sexual molestation of his mother. With his father leaning against the support beam of the barn and more interested in drinking his bottle than in watching his wife, Karl stepped closer to his mother to block his father's view from seeing what he was about to do to his mother.

In anticipation of having his wicked way with his mother, he felt, fondled, and caressed his mother's big breasts through her nightgown. Because of the narrow cut of her waist and the well-formed flow of her 36" back and chest, her C cup breasts appeared bigger on her shapely frame, especially when they were so exposed as they were now. Genetically blessed, high up but not as high up as Rachel's big tits, still Olga's big tits didn't sag all that much. Especially being that they looked so much alike, no doubt Karl imagined touching and feeling his sister's shapely breasts while feeling his mother's big tits.

Obviously sexually excited by his mother's immorally immodest display of her nearly naked body, he ran a slow palm over her nipples before fingering them, pulling them, turning them, and twisting them through her nightgown. Olga gasped with erotic delight to the incestuous attention received from her son. Evidentially already sexually aroused by the size of her nipples, she closed her eyes in enjoyment of sexual sensations that her son was giving her by feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples. No doubt, if they were alone, she'd be more vocal in telling her son what she wanted.

In all the years they were married, taking her shapely body for granted when so many other farmers' wives were pleasingly plump, her husband never appreciated her in the way her son worshiped her. Her husband never felt her in way her son did. Her husband never looked at her with the lust in the way her son did. Her husband never gave her the sexual pleasure that she was obviously feeling now that her son did.

Before leaning down to suck his mother's nipples through her nightgown, Karl looked over his shoulder at his father. Hugo was still leaning against the support beam in a drunken stupor and incoherently mumbling to himself. Taking one hard impression of her nipple in his mouth before taking the other, Karl sucked his mother's nipples through the thin cotton material. As if she had two big bull's eyes on her nightgown where he sucked her nipples to their full erectness, he left two, big, wet spots on the front of her nightgown.

Olga peered down at her son's mouth to watch him suck and nibble on her nipples. She angled her sexy body to him when he sucked on one nipple and angled her body the other way when he sucked on her other nipple. Then when he reached his horny hand inside her nightgown and pulled out one breast before pulling out her other breasts, she brazenly stood there topless while lustily eyeing her son as he eyed his father before turning back to eye her. Pleased with what he had done and at what his mother was so unabashedly showing, Karl took a step back to stare at his mother's exposed tits.

"You have beautiful breasts mother," he said stepping forward to whisper his compliment in her ear. "I just love you big tits."

The perfect incestuous storm, a son sexually lusting over his mother was nothing new but a mother lusting over her son was something out of the ordinary. Why not? Only fifteen years older than her son, married as a virgin to a man nearly twice her age, she never had the pleasurable sexual experience from her husband that her son was giving her now. Having had two children before her 18th birthday, sex was never enjoyable with her husband then as it was with her son now.

The sight of Olga standing there so helplessly tied to the horse stall while her son had his wicked way with her body was as erotically exciting as it was incestuously outrageous. Especially back then when women were covered from their necks to ankles and even now, a woman so exposed, so helplessly tied, and so vulnerable was most men's sexual fantasy but for that man to be her son was something else all together. It takes two to have an incestuous love affair and this mother was just as incestuous wicked as was her son. No doubt, just as Olga wanted to save her daughter from the same fate, perhaps Olga was jealous that once they had their wicked way with Rachel, they wouldn't want to take her to the barn anymore.

"Hey! You whore! What are you doing over there with your tits hanging out like that," said her husband slurring his words.

"You ripped open my nightgown. You did this to me," she said. "Don't you remember Hugo? You exposed my breasts to our son. How dare you!"

"Ah," he said waving a disinterested hand at her. "Well cover yourself. Your son is staring at your breasts," he said with a sick laugh. "Knowing you as I do, you're enjoying the attention."

"How can I cover myself with my wrists tied to the horse stall? Untie me dear husband and I'll gladly cover myself," said Olga looking from her husband to look down at her breasts before looking at her son.

A prelude of what was to come, as soon as Hugo turned away again and fell silent, Karl was all over his mother's tits, feeling them, fondling them, caressing them, and sucking them.

* * * * *

A time of manufacturing progress with machine over man and machine being better, faster, and cheaper than man, those in power thought that the second industrial revolution would be a Godsend. But for a few squirts of oil and with regular maintenance, machines didn't need a bathroom break, a lunch break, a sick day, a holiday, and/or vacation time. With no laws in place to govern their safety, pollution, and noise, machines could work around the clock without complaint and without having to be compensated with weekly wages and/or overtime. Even though overtime and healthcare benefits weren't offered back then, machines didn't need any additional entitlements to entice them to work.

'Twas the same, sad, old story then that it is now, albeit with new workers. Thinking that the new technology was a second coming at a time of government discontent, employee dissatisfaction, and worker disenfranchisement, in the way that America needs to be competitive against China now, Germany needed the new technology then to remain competitive with Great Britain and France. Just as it is today with imports and exports driving the economy and pushing and pulling the economic climate in the way of the moon setting the times of the tides, it was no different back then. A vicious and never ending cycle, workers needed more money and better jobs to keep up with inflation and factory owners needed more production with less costs to return the capital investment they put out to buy the costly machines. A time when everyone had very little rights, just as German women and all women throughout the world wanted equal rights, German men wanted a Bill of Rights too.

Only, with the advent of the second industrial revolution, especially with all the confusion in the beginning, politicians promised more jobs because of the new, modern, mechanical technology. With one machine doing the job of ten, twenty, and even more men, there were even less jobs. 'Twas a strikingly familiar scenario then with machines as it is now with computers. Just as politicians and business owners lied to Germans then about the advent of modern machinery creating more jobs, politicians lied to us now and telling us that there'd be more, higher paying jobs with the advent of computers. In fact, with ATM machines replacing bank tellers, self-checkout, credit card kiosks replacing store clerks, and self-pumps replacing gas station attendants that would clean your windshield, check your oil, and fill your tires, there were less jobs. The only jobs that computers created in the beginning were low paying data processing jobs.

Even though all things must change, some things never change, and some things remain the same. If anything there were more low paying jobs with computerization. Many of the higher paying computer related jobs were outsourced overseas because of cheaper labor rates and nonexistent employee labor benefits. As it was then and as it is now, whenever there was more of anything for the select few minority, there was less of everything for the vast majority. Just as it was then, it is now. There were more unemployed and idle workers with nothing, no job, no money, and no hope.

The massive changes instigated workers to unite and enraged citizens to revolt. The emergence of the second and more encompassing industrial revolution, deemed the Technological Revolution, along with all the major changes that emerged with it, wasn't welcome by all. Rejected and/or resisted by many and accepted by few, the only ones to embrace the Technological Revolution were the factory owners. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, with factory workers not the only ones feeling the pinch, farmers were at the mercy of merchants fixing prices.

"How dare they! Only what else is new?"

Accustomed to and comfortable with the way things were, most workers didn't want things to change. Most workers wanted everything to remain the same and to be done in the same way that their fathers, grandfathers, and great grandfathers did before them. How dare they change everything they've known! With handcrafted skills passed down from generation to generation, their hands and experienced fingers could do things and feel things that no machine could. Instead, for the sake of quantity over quality and for the sake of progress increasing production while cutting production costs, factory owners embraced the new machines while rejecting the quality of experienced journeymen producing handcrafted, albeit more labor intensive and expensive goods.

* * * * *

The lord of his house and the master of his farm, Hugo was the landlord of his land. Yet, even being so far from the city and so removed from the riots and demonstrations, as if the air was thick with the misery and the sorrow of the masses, even he felt the unrest and the anger of the times on his secluded farm. To fill his imagination with unfounded rumors, speculations, superstitions, anger induced heresy, and suspicions, all he had to do was to talk to passing farmers or go to town to listen to and get caught up in the angry men complaining about the rich versus the poor. The conversations they had then are the same conversations that we're having now between Republicans and Democrats. With everything out of his control, what little that Hugo could control was his family by dishing out his violent discipline to his wife in his barn.

"You're no better than an unruly dog that bites the hand of the one who feeds him," said Hugo to his wife. "When undisciplined, much in the way of a vicious dog not being taught to obey and to walk with his master, women act out in frustration and confusion when left alone to make their own decisions. Women don't have the mental capacity to ponder, to analyze, and to plan things in their minds in the way that men do. Men must protect women from the folly of themselves by doing all the thinking for them. Women need to know who's the boss and who's their pack leader by treating them like the dirty, ungrateful dogs that they are."

"Please Hugo, have mercy on me and my aching body. I don't know what I did to deserve your punishment but I'm sorry for whatever I did. I don't remember what I did to deserve your violent abuse but I'm sorry for whatever I did to deserve such terrible punishment," she said. "I'm just tired and want to go to bed."

"You don't know what you did?" He turned from his wife to his son. "Watch Papa, Karl, to learn how a man treats and disciplines his woman for respect and for obedience. You'll thank me later when you have a woman of your own."

"Yes Papa," said Karl watching his father put his bottle down and approach his wife.

"I'm sorry Hugo. Truly I am. If I disrespected you in any way, I'm sorry. If you thought that I didn't obey you, I'm sorry. I just don't know what I did."

"You know what you did," he said with vileness while pointing a finger of retribution.

"I'm sorry," she said while seemingly and suddenly remembering what it was she had done. She pled her case for mercy again. "I'm sorry for reading that women's rights literature. Yes, is that it? I'm sorry. As soon as you untie me, I'll run to the house and burn it in the fireplace. Okay?"

"Yes and what else?" Hugo looked at his wife as if looking at a disobedient child before looking at his son with pride for the humiliation of his mother.

"What else? I'm sorry for thinking that I'm a human being and not a dog. I'm sorry for thinking that I'm your equal. How dare I! I'm not equal to you. I'm weak. I'm a nothing and a no one without you telling me what to do and when to do it. I'm sorry for everything. Please forgive me master," she said looking up at him with a face full of remorse and shame.

"Yes, that's good," he said staring looking at his son with prideful smile of victory.

He stared at his wife's exposed breasts before looking at his son staring at his mother's exposed breasts. Seemingly enamored with his mother's tits, Karl stared at his mother's breasts in the way that her husband should but didn't. Just as Karl had already taken over much of the responsibility of the farm, the new, albeit not yet crowned king of the castle and man of the house, a son taking over the sexual responsibility of pleasuring his mother when a father couldn't was a recipe for violence and a formula for disaster.

There were times when, while watching his wife suck his son, Hugo looked inconsolably jealous and insanely angry. Drinking seemed to be the only elixir that temporarily took away his pain to only replace it with more anger later. He looked as if he wanted to do harm to his son for doing all that he was sexually doing to his mother that he was unable to do with his wife. Yet, most times, Hugo looked at his son with pride while watching him touch and feel his mother and he looked at his wife with sexual excitement while watching her suck her son.

"Untie me please dear husband. My arms hurt. My back is sore. My wrists are bleeding and I can't stand any longer. I've learned my lesson. I did. I'm tired, Hugo. I'm so very tired. I just want to go back to bed. I only have a few hours of sleep left before I have to get up to do all of my chores."

"That's better, much better. Do you see Karl, how men must treat women for them to submit and to obey? Men must treat their women with an iron fist," said Hugo pounding his fist in the palm of his hand again.

No doubt, if he thought by peeing on her to mark her as his and for her to submit to his will, he would. Fortunately for Olga, Hugo wasn't into water sports. His thing was watching his son having his wicked, incestuous way with his wife while he masturbated.